


What The Doctor Has Ordered

by Huntress79



Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Deaf Clint Barton, Feathers & Featherplay, Human Disaster Clint Barton, M/M, Medical Kink, Sassy Jarvis, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Teasing, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79
Summary: Out of all Avengers, Clint’s the one who always walks away from a mission with at least one injury. Good thing that his boyfriend has just what the doctor has ordered...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Maria Hill/Natasha Romanov (background), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (background)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	What The Doctor Has Ordered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BookofOdym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofOdym/gifts).



> Notes: written for Smut4Smut and BookofOdym. Enjoy!

*********************

Sometimes, when they all are decompressing after a mission, Bucky wonders if that all is penance for the crimes he did under Hydra’s thumb.

Not the missions themselves, or the incredibly detailed debriefings afterwards - sure, he would be the last to complain if they were a tad shorter - no, what brought that question up again and again was currently several floors down from him, in “Avengers Medical”, as Tony had called it on more than one occasion.

You know, for all that artistic talent Clint Barton had at his disposal, he also was the one that usually ended up with one injury or another during a mission. Most of the time, it were minor injuries, like cuts, or scrapes, but there were times when Bucky really feared for the life of his partner.

Like the one time where one of the baddie’s henchmen apparently mistook Clint’s thigh for a piece of pork and skewered it with an iron rod. Nonetheless, Clint not only killed that one, but also took out several more with his arrows before collapsing.

This time, though, Clint had ended up with a couple of bruised ribs, thanks to a hastened escape from the rooftop he was on when some of the Doombot derivation the team was fighting closed in on him. Bucky only heard a “not again” over the comms before he saw Clint making a swan dive into a office window several floors below, and even across the distance, he couldn’t help but wince in sympathy when he saw his partner rolling several feet inside the office.

Now, Clint was in the very capable hands of Helen Cho and her team, while Bucky was waiting on him. If this was Sam or Scott or anyone else of the team, he would be down in Medical, but since Helen all but kicked him out the last time Clint was in need of her services, he preferred to wait for his partner in their shared apartment.

His mobile chimed, ending his train of thought. Looking at the display, Bucky saw the always lovely face of Natasha Romanov smiling back at him.

“Hey, Natalia, everything’s okay?”

“Of course, Yasha,” the redhead replied. “I’m lying at a poolside in Cap D’Antibes, my wife next to me, the sun is baking us up nicely and the drinks are delicious,...” she trailed off, the smile on her face audible all across the miles.

“Yep, that sounds alot like my own definition of okay,” Bucky gave back with a smile of his own. If anyone, Natasha, and with her Maria, had earned a honeymoon that pulled out all stops.

“But you’re not calling to brag about your downtime, right?”

“Nope,” she popped the “p” for emphasis. “Heard that our favorite human disaster has struck again.”

“Yeah, though this time it’s ‘just’ some bruised ribs.” Try as he might, Bucky couldn’t help but wince again. The memories of his life before WW2 were there, though incomplete and spotty, but even then he knew that he did some boxing back then, and therefore, his body knew how much pain bruised ribs could cause.

“Well, at least it’s not life threatening, for once,” Natasha quipped.

“Little triumphs, right?”

“Yup.” She paused, and Bucky heard her taking a sip of whatever concoction she had right now. “Okay,” she trailed off again, “wow, this drink is a killer. I gotta get that recipe and bring it back to you all.”

“That good?” Bucky asked, valiantly trying to fight the laugh that bubbled up in him.

“You have no idea, Barnes. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is that Clint needs a reminder of how much you worry about his health from time to time. You know his background,” Bucky gave a confirming sound, “and when he’s on a mission, it’s easier for him to slip back to these old patterns. God knows how many times Phil and I have worked with him about them, but somehow, they keep coming back.”

“Any useful tips for the worried boyfriend?”

“Of course I do, but I’m not gonna tell you via phone. I’ll send you an email instead.”

Before Bucky could even think about any kind of reply, she hung up, leaving him to stare at his mobile for some moments.

*********************

Several minutes later, Bucky was smiling in earnest while reading Nat’s email over and over again. How on Earth did he end up with friends like her anyway?

Closing the email app at last, a plan began to form in his mind. Maybe it really could help Clint realize how much he loved him, and that he couldn’t watch the archer taking unnecessary risks on a regular basis anymore - neither as one of the team leaders nor as his lover.

“Jarvis,” Bucky called out.

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Is Clint still in Medical?”

“Yes, he is. Should I tell Dr. Cho to hurry up a bit?”

“No, not at all. Can you let her know to keep him a bit longer? I have to prepare something, and I’m not sure…”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant. I have already notified Dr. Cho of your request, and I gladly assist you in whatever you plan.”

“Thanks, J.”

For reasons unknown to Bucky, he and the AI running the Tower had become somewhat like friends, much to Tony’s chagrin and Pepper’s (and everyone else’s) amusement.

*********************

In the meantime, Clint got more and more restless by the minute down in Medical. Sure, Dr. Cho was as efficient as ever, running every kind of test she could think of on him. But still, it all took way too long for his liking. Unless… no, he hadn’t seen any of the other Avengers getting hurt, at least not in a way that would require the attention of almost all medical staff on duty.

“So, Agent Barton,” Helen began as she entered the room, “I have good news for you.”

“Really, Doc?”

“Yes, you’re free to go.” Clint got up from the bed and started towards the door, only to be stopped by a delicate hand landing on his shoulder. “But there’s something you should know before you leave my realm.”

“What is it? Was someone else of the team injured?”

“No, nothing of that kind, thank the Lord. It’s hard enough having one of you here and knowing that the rest of the team are running themselves ragged with worry.” She smiled at him. “No, Sergeant Barnes has let me know that once you’re up in your apartment, your presence is required in what he called your office.” Helen shrugged. “I hope you know what’s that all meaning.”

“Yes, Doc, I do,” Clint answered, his mind already whirring with all the possibilites this unusual request from his partner could mean. Was Bucky breaking up with him? Was he benching him for some time, due to him being reckless one time too much?

Helen gave him a reassuring nod before sending him on his way.

*********************

Up in the apartment, Bucky put the last touches to his preparations. Their “office” was actually an empty room that both men used when they felt the need to be alone and without any disturbances. Now, thanks to Jarvis helping out, it more resembled a doctor’s practice than anything else.

“Sir, Mr. Barton is in the elevator on his way up,” the AI called out.

“Thanks, Jarvis. Can you direct him to this room, please?”

“Of course, Sergeant,” the computerized voice answered, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile - not only at the prim and proper way the AI sounded, but also at the prospect of showering his partner with love while simultaneously living out one of his fantasies at the same time. Which happened to be one of Clint’s as well.

Just as he heard their front door open, Bucky slipped on the lab coat and gave himself one last once-over in the small mirror in the en suite bathroom. Showtime.

“Buck?” Clint called out, sounding somewhat unsure.

“Sir, Sergeant Barnes told me to direct you to the office,” Jarvis answered.

“You mean our ‘no disturbances’ room?” Clint asked back.

“Yes, I do, Sir,” the AI replied, and once again, Bucky had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Of all the shiny new things in the 21st century, this AI was definitely taking the top spot.

“Okay,” he heard Clint mutter right outside the room, “here goes nothing.” And with that, the shorter man stepped into said room, taking in the changes with his keen eyes.

“Agent Barton?” Bucky called out as he stepped out of the small bathroom.

Said man whirled around, his eyes going large and round once he saw what his partner was wearing. Plastering a smile on his face, Clint came up to Bucky, a hand stretched out in greeting.

“Yes, yes, I am Agent Barton, but you can call me Clint, if you want. Agent Barton is always too formal, makes my skin crawl.”

“Very well,” Bucky replied while shaking the hand. “Please, Clint, have a seat. I’ve been told by both your commanding officers and your partner that you have been quite reckless recently. I’m here to help you being more careful.”

Clnt couldn’t help but squint at his partner. Was it really that bad?

“You know what we do for a living, Doc?”

“Yes, Clint, I do, and I admit I’m somewhat surprised that Dr. Cho and her team don’t have to do life-saving surgeries on one of you on a weekly basis. Sure, Sergeant Barnes is enhanced, the same goes for the Maximoff twins, and there are rumors even in the world of science that Agent Romanoff is one as well, but the rest of you are just plain humans, from a biological POV. And there’s only so much a common human body, no matter how well he or she is trained, can take before it breaks.”

Clint nodded. Damn, Bucky was taking this really serious, not only with playing the part of a concerned outsider, but also with his concern about Clint’s wellbeing as well.

“So, what do you suggest, Doc? Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t see what talking about it would change.”

Bucky gave a little smile. “Don’t worry, Clint. We will keep the talking part short, though I might add that communication is vital in every aspect of life.” He got up, walked around the table and perched down on the corner nearest to Clint. “But here, some practical exercises might be more up my venue, after all.” Bucky finished with a wink, and try as he might, Clint couldn’t quite contain a groan.

“Alright,” Bucky continued, going over to what looked a lot like a massage table or the small beds he had seen in doctor’s offices. “Please, come over here, Clint. It’s gonna be easier to show you these exercises here.”

Clint did as told, but in the meantime, he also took the time to give Bucky a thoroughly once-over. He had no idea how his partner had pulled that all off (and right now, he was close to not caring about it at all), but still, the white lab coat hung to Bucky’s frame like a tailored glove.

Underneath, Clint could see one of Bucky’s favorite henleys and a pair of blue jeans that were the same like the coat - hugging his partner’s thighs and ass like they were sculptured or painted on.

At last, the archer sat down on the small bed, looking up at Bucky expectantly.

“Can you drop your shirt, please?” Bucky ordered.

“Sure,” Clint replied, grabbing the edges of his light purple shirt. Still, he couldn’t quite suppress a pained groan when his bruised ribs protested the movement.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, his expression changing from a cool and collected one to a worried one.

“Yeah, bruised ribs don’t like the movement, but I’m gonna live, Doc, don’t worry,” Clint quipped from underneath the hem of his shirt.

While his partner struggled with getting out of the shirt, Bucky struggled with the whole act. Was it too soon after the last injury to do it? Would he even endanger Clint’s very life that way?

“And now, Doc?” Clint asked, having finally conquered that evil piece of clothing.

Bucky took a deep breath before continuing. “Please, lie back.” He went to Clint’s left side, knowing thanks to Jarvis that the bruising was not so bad on this side. “Just relax and let me do the work, okay?”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Clint replied, and this time, he was the one to send a wink to the other man.

Bucky gave him another soft smile before letting the fingertips of his right hand trailing lightly down Clint’s flank until they hit the waistband of Clint’s jeans. Accompanied by a rather disaproving snort (which sounded absolutely adorable to Clint’s ears), Bucky made his way down to the foot end of the bed.

For a minute or so, he only stood there, letting his gaze wander up and down Clint’s legs, as if he could make the offending clothing vanish by sheer willpower. Since that didn’t happen, Bucky let out a small huff and came back to Clint’s side.

“Something wrong, Doc?” Clint inquired in the most innocent voice he could muster.

“Yeah, your jeans have to go as well,” Bucky gave back, his voice slightly tinged with frustration. “Otherwise the exercises won’t have the effect I want them to have.”

“Alright, Doc, think you can give me a hand here?”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. With a few swift movements, he had the belt open before working the fly with the same effiency Clint had seen on the battlefield - quick, ruthless, never missing a beat.

If Bucky was surprised that Clint went commando under the jeans, he didn’t show it, at least not outward. Pushing his right hand under the other man’s body, Bucky lifted Clint’s hips long enough to pull the trousers down to the thighs - where he left them bunched up.

“Now that’s better,” Bucky finally said after surveying his “work”.

“If you say so, Doc,” Clint quipped, trying valiantly to keep his voice straight. Despite the fact that the room was well-tempered, he felt goosebumps blooming on his whole body.

In the meantime, Bucky was back at his left side, resuming the task he had started before. Though now, with him being almost completely naked and at his partner’s “mercy”, Clint couldn’t help but shudder when Bucky’s clever fingers landed on the sensitive skin of his flank.

“Relax, Clint,” Bucky suddenly purred into Clint’s ear. right next to the hearing aid, sending a wave of delicious shivers and electricity down the archer’s spine. Did Bucky know what he was doing to him?

Apparently, the former assassin did, if the fact that he continued his exploration with just his fingertips down Clint’s legs was anything to count for. He left a trail of blazing fire in his wake, contradicting the goosebumps Clint felt all over his body.

At long last, Bucky was at his right side, and by now, Clint was already a quivering mess. Heaving a small sigh, Bucky crouched slightly down to be on eye level with the archer.

“I told you before, Clint, you have to relax.” He pressed a featherlight kiss to Clint’s temple. “Don’t you know that you don’t have to be brave when it’s just me around you?”

Deep down, Clint knew, but after so many years of putting on a brave face and getting lost in being an exceptional agent, it was hard to let go, even in the privacy of their apartment.

“I… I do, Bucky, I do,” Clint finally got out.

“Good, good, and once again: just relax, I’ve got you, babe.”

For the next few minutes, Bucky just kept his fingers running in deliberate patterns across Clint’s skin, and somehow, this simple task had the desired effect - Clint felt himself separating from the world outside, his focus zooming in on what Bucky was doing to him.

Bucky on the other hand couldn’t help but smile when he saw how his partner’s face slowly went slack. It had bothered him for quite some time that Clint almost always had an expression on as if the weight of the whole world was resting on his shoulders alone.

Before he got together with Clint, Bucky had seen that same expression on Steve innumerable times, but since his best friend for the past century or so had resolved all his problems with Tony and finally got around to confess his true feelings for the genius, he hardly saw it these days.

Coming back from this little trip down memory lane, Bucky grabbed the feather from the small table behind him, replacing his fingers with it. At the first touch, Clint let out a shaky breath before relaxing into it.

Bucky kept the feather running in the same random patterns his fingers had drawn before. Up one side of Clint’s body, down the other one, then over to the inside of his thighs, back over the expanse of his stomach.

When Bucky felt that Clint was relaxed enough, he put the feather back on the table, smothering down a laugh when he heard his lover giving a disapproving sound when the archer realized that the feather was gone.

“Patience, babe, I got so many things to make you feel real good,” Bucky murmured into Clint’s ear, the resulting groan music to his own ears.

Grabbing the next item from the table, Bucky was, probably for the first time ever, glad for the metal arm. Sure, it had its advantages on the missions as well, but right now, it was simply perfect for what he had planned next.

And that was running an ice cube over Clint’s chest, paying extreme attention to the other man’s nipples. Clint arched his back almost minutely, either trying to get away from the cube or getting even more friction.

In an ideal world, Bucky would have continued to “torture” Clint with the ice cubes for far longer, but in reality, he ran out of them too soon for his liking. The sounds and movements coming from his partner were exquisitely delicious.

Wiping his metal fingers on a rag, Bucky surveyed what else he had on the small table. Despite having a medical kink, he never could wrap his mind around using actual medical instruments like syringes or surgical knives in a sexual environment, thanks to HYDRA. And since this idea was rather born quickly, he had no time and no way to check these matters with Clint first.

“Bucky…,” Clint groaned, the archer’s hips lifting from the bed on their own volition. For several seconds, Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from the show, transfixed on the downright sinful way Clint’s whole lower body moved.

Giving himself a slight shake, Bucky finally chose a purple cock and ball cage he got the other day. This was another thing that both men agreed on - needing that constructive feeling on their genitals, if only for a certain amount of time. Due to his past, Bucky couldn’t keep it on for a longer period of time, but Clint could (and had already) spent about a day with the other cage on, never showing even the slightest sign of being uncomfortable.

Though this time, putting it on Clint’s cock proved to be quite difficult. First of all, Clint was rock hard, and therefore, the sleeve barely fit over the head, let alone the shaft. Second, Clint’s balls were already drawn close to his body, making it pretty much impossible to fit the cage around them in a proper way.

Discarding the cage for the time being, Bucky was at a loss. While he knew that Clint was very responsive to any kind of impact play, he hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from the archer.

Huffing a breath, Bucky finally discarded the coat, and with it the henley, leaving him in a thin undershirt. While it was a nice idea to start exploring their favorite kinks this way, they both were too aroused now to pay any more attention to the scenario.

And so, Bucky opened his own pants while spreading Clint’s legs with the help of the bed’s foot rest. As if Clint’s body realized what was about to happen, the rim of his hole began to work slightly on its own volition. Now it was Bucky’s turn to groan at the display.

“Sweet Jesus, Clint,...”

At last, Bucky pulled an office chair closer and into the V he had created. Now that he was closer, his senses were “assaulted” with Clint’s scent of arousal. God, the heady scent made him delirious in the most delicious way possible.

Inching a bit closer, Bucky finally took a broad swipe with his tongue, starting at Clint’s hole and going up over his balls to the head of his cock, collecting the beads of pre-come there. He was rewarded with the loudest moan he ever had heard another human being making, drawn out and sending a tingle into every corner of his own body.

Bucky repeated the action several times, marveling about the sounds coming from his partner constantly. And to think that he was responsible for them made him feeling somewhat powerful in a way nothing else would ever be able to achieve.

Getting back to the task at hand (or at mouth, in this case), Bucky honed in on the head of Clint’s cock. First, he let only the tip of his tongue swirl around, teasing the other man relentlessly, only to swallow him down almost completely when Clint didn’t expect it. Another groan/moan was the only answer Bucky got for doing that, and for once, he was grateful for the fact that all their personal quarters where sound-proof. And while Bucky wasn’t ashamed of having reclaimed a healthy sex life after all, he had no desire to share any details, like all the sounds Clint made during sex, with anyone else.

Clint, in the meantime, felt like in heaven. His mind was empty, except for focusing on all the wonderful reactions Bucky was teasing out of him. And right now, the whole world could be burning to the ground outside, and still, he wouldn’t move an inch. Not when his cock was engulfed in the velvet heat of Bucky’s mouth, his balls were played with (and with his partner’s metal hand to boot!), and a slick sound coming from the same direction told him that Bucky was jerking himself off in sync with his mouth.

Too soon for Clint’s liking, Bucky pulled off of his cock with a plop. But before Clint even could think of “mourning” the loss, Bucky’s metal fingers were circling his rim, sending sparks of cool electricity up his spine.

Only a heartbeat later, Clint realized that his lover was really into temperature play today - the lube he was using was slowly getting warmer inside of him. He couldn’t remember who gave it to them, but Clint knew that while it was a strange experience in the beginning, once the body got used to it, it added a special edge to the act itself.

Bucky usually got him started with two fingers, working him open slowly and thoroughly. Today, though, he not only used his fingers, but alternated them with a small, metal dildo, hitting Clint’s prostate with the object in, once again, random patterns that kept him on the edge.

“Bucky, please, I need you,” Clint exclaimed after another hit with the dildo. To drive the point home, he wound his legs around Bucky’s hips, drawing the other man in.

“You think so, babe?” Bucky asked back, locking his gaze with Clint’s, the usual pale blue eyes dark with arousal and lust.

“I know it, hon,” Clint replied, bucking up slightly into his lover’s touch.

With a chuckle, Bucky finally discarded the dildo and poured some lube on his own cock. Clint spread his legs even further, making more room for his lover.

Ever so slowly, Bucky pushed into Clint, both men letting out a groan. Once he was buried to the hilt, Bucky stilled, raveling in the feeling of being inside his partner.

“Move, Buck!” Clint instructed, his voice strained and slightly tinged with frustration.

“I’ve got you, Clint,” Bucky reassured him, emphasizing each word with a snap of his hips that left Clint breathless.

Soon enough, he had a sharp, almost punishing rhythm going, hitting Clint’s prostate with the same precision that made him a feared sniper back in the day and a more than worthy second-in-command to Sam’s Captain America nowadays.

In addition to this, Bucky also began to jerk Clint off in the same rhythm, leaving the other man no other choice as to hang on and enjoy the ride, so to speak.

Clint felt himself soaring higher and higher under Bucky’s ministrations while simultaneously getting closer and closer to the only abyss he ever would desire. One sharp snap from Bucky’s hips, paired with a wicked twist of his hand, finally took Clint over the edge, his vision blinding out white for a moment or two.

Bucky followed him shortly afterwards, barely managing to keep himself upright in the throes of passion. And even then, he stayed connected with his lover, catching his breath, just like Clint.

“Wow, just… WOW!” was all Clint finally got out, the ability to speak in full, coherent sentences temporarily suspended in his brain.

“Amazing,” Bucky replied, apparently not faring any better. Conjuring up some energy reserves, he finally pulled out of Clint, wrapped him up in the sheet, then in his arms and carried him over to their bedroom, resolving to give Natasha the largest gift basket he could get once she was back.

*********************

The End

*********************


End file.
